


Flare

by Shulik



Series: Big sister, big problem. [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hale Family Feels, Laura gets shit done, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:23:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shulik/pseuds/Shulik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just because he's not one of mine," Laura bares her teeth at Argent, "that doesn't mean I'll give him to <i>you</i>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flare

+

 

She decided to go running in the woods the second day back. 

Her body, still weakened and far too sluggish didn’t feel like it belonged to her. Laura, who had always prided herself on being in control felt lost. Anchorless and useless. Exercise, she had loved to run when she was younger, loved the feeling of her muscles stretching taut and sweat beading down her back, exercise would help. 

Laura stood at the tree line, watching the way the leaves moved in the wind and tried not to show any fear. 

Stupid, really, being so terrified of the woods that she had grown up in, that she and her brothers had run in as soon as they were able to. The woods that they had all played tag in. Transformed for the first time and chasing each other, exhilarant and growling madly, jubilant as they followed their mother deeper and deeper into Hale territory. 

Laura’s hands were shaking. She honestly had no idea what to do. 

Somewhere, behind her Derek was still in the house, silent and unmoving, a statue to his failures as he probably watched her make a fool out of herself. She really would have preferred him out here beside her but beggars couldn’t be choosers and when Laura had asked Derek into the woods with her- he had turned so pale that it took all of Laura’s strength not to crack a joke about _her_ being the recently dead one and _Derek_ looking like a ghost. 

“I’m sorry,” Derek said and tried his hardest to become one with the shadows, “I can’t.” 

The guilt rolled off him in thick waves, acrid and bitter on her tongue. 

Laura had stared at her brother, desperately wanting to shake some sense into him. 

Still weak, still recovering- it was taking the last of her strength, both physical and emotional to adjust to being a beta after what seemed like a lifetime as an alpha and this asshole was pulling the ‘I _can’t_ ’ card on her?

“I’m sorry,” Laura snapped bitterly, “is my needing your support getting in the way of your alone time?” 

She knew that she was being unfair, Derek and misery were practically married. In that sense, nothing had changed. The part that _had_ though, the part of her that had opened her eyes to infinite blackness, suffocating and then had to claw her way out of her goddamn _grave_. That part didn’t understand. Didn’t want to. 

Derek flinched, taking a step backwards again. His eyes were huge, pained and the gulf between them, the empty, gaping hole between her and her little brother- it felt bigger than it had ever felt before. 

He was hurting but so was Laura and for once, she needed someone to be there for _her_. 

“I’m going to go,” Laura shook her head. “Before I say something else that I’ll regret.” 

Derek’s lips were a thin, pursed line. He stayed silent. 

Laura ran to the woods, throwing her human form off in an easy, practiced movement. She stopped at the beginning of the boundary between the clearing and the trees. Like something was physically barring her from running further, an invisible barrier that had popped up when she wasn’t looking. When she was dead. 

Murdered in these exact woods, grounds that she had grown up on, trees that she had climbed with her brothers and then had leapt, laughing into piles of leaves. 

She didn’t know what she felt, whether the bone-deep knowledge that this was her _territory_ was enough to overpower the memory of staring at these trees as she bled out. 

She was a huge black wolf in this form, about twice her human size. But standing there, not even the change from her usual, frail human body was enough to get her moving. 

Her every sense was heightened, sharpened to the point where she didn’t even need to inhale to know which one of Derek’s little pack was now cautiously making his way to her. 

“I didn’t know that we could turn into _actual_ wolves,” Boyd said mildly. 

Laura huffed. If she had been human, she would have rolled her eyes and then said something extremely sarcastic. Something like exactly how many wolves Boyd had known for comparison’s sake. 

Instead she stayed silent and Boyd didn’t speak either. About ten minutes into their impasse, he started stripping his clothes off. After he slipped his jeans off, folding them neatly onto the little pile of clothing that he had begun to accumulate, that was when Laura began to feel slightly alarmed. She sat back on her haunches, watched Boyd roll his shoulders back and let out a soft, questioning whine. 

Boyd smiled at her, “I’ve been looking for a running buddy and you seem like you can keep up.” His left eyebrow rose, “or maybe not, seeing as how you _are_ older than all of us. Maybe you’ve become slow in your old age…” he trailed off. 

Laura wasn’t an idiot. She knew exactly what the kid was doing and it was only the fact that he was probably taking his own initiative that stopped her from laying into him. 

Point in his favour was that he was an actual runner. Every time she’d start to slow down, breaths picking up and heartbeat thundering wildly in her ears, Boyd would double back, nipping at her haunches, urging her on with a mad, lolling smile. 

By the time they made it out of the woods, Erica was waiting for the both of them, two mugs of coffee in her hands and a wary, hopeful smile on her face. 

“I… I didn’t know how you liked your coffee,” Erica said, wilting a little bit as Laura stared at her. 

Somehow, her idiot baby brother had managed to turn these amazing kids, hopeful and full of enthusiasm enough to go and try helping a stranger that had come back from the dead. Laura’s resolve grew. 

“Anything with caffeine in it is fine by me,” she nodded at the younger girl, “come. Sit with us. Tell me about yourself.” 

Erica’s smile, when it wasn’t a calculated slash of red was something to behold. She had dimples and when Laura made her laugh, Erica ducked her head, something shy and sweet coming through, a vulnerability and softness to her. Boyd, who’d been sitting on Laura’s other side, still shirtless and gleaming in the early sun like a pagan god, eyes slitted and body slouched, content, his heart tripped at Erica’s soft smile, stuttered over its normal rhythm. He wouldn’t meet Laura’s eyes for the rest of the day and avoided Erica as well. 

 

+

 

Laura’s not an idiot. 

She _is_ patient though, she can wait things out, stand back and let events unfold as they would and step in at the right moment. She’s had years of practice, being the oldest in a family of five, waiting out her siblings’ various tantrums and learning how to keep a cool head above it all. 

Laura’s not an idiot and she can definitely wait out Stiles and his little cohort if she has to. 

In the month that she’s been back, Laura’s been watching the kids. Testing them out, waiting to see what their instinctual reactions would be. Her job is ideal in this instance, the perfect access to a group of frankly ridiculous teenagers, hopped up on puberty hormones and the wolf. 

If Derek didn’t look so completely wounded every time she approaches him nowadays, Laura would have given him another couple of good, hard smacks. 

She stands at the window, watches the soccer team running around on the field beyond the teachers’ lounge and tries to pretend like the coffee in her hand isn’t the most disgusting thing she’s ever willingly ingested. 

Bobby Finstock’s sharp, rat-tat-tat of a heartbeat doesn’t take Laura by surprise. What _does_ , is the fact that he actually finds the balls to talk to her. 

“They’re not that great,” he snaps out like Laura had been proclaiming the wonders of the Beacon Hills Soccer team. 

Laura slowly turns to eye him, watching Finstock flush a bright almost radioactive red from her careful appraisal. “I didn’t say they were,” she says slowly, measuredly, watching his ears pinken with fascination. 

It’s been so _long_ that she’s been around someone whose reactions to her have been so absolutely human that it makes Laura feel strange inside. She doesn’t like it. 

There are so many other things that have to come first, Laura has no time for this. 

Bobby clears his throat, looks shifty and like he hasn’t been planning this speech since Laura had discovered the teachers’ lounge. This is blatantly untrue. Laura’s heard him rehearse it under his breath _several_ times. 

“Hey, so-“ he begins tentatively enough that Laura’s startled, eyeing him with surprise and gentle amusement. If she was a better person, she’d be stopping him in his tracks. But she’s not, she’s only herself and Laura’s always been greedy for connection. Has always wanted to reach out and grasp, _clutch_ , never let go. 

That’s probably why she’s always felt closest to Derek, her baby brother, the youngest boy in the family. He’s always been more wolf than human, like her has always _yearned_ and held on, didn’t know how not to possess and ask for everything _more_. 

“Yes?” she quirks an eyebrow, watches Bobby Finstock flush harder and wonders at it all. 

There might have been a time when a fifteen year old Laura had crushed on the handsome senior, following his walk around the hallways with wide, impressed eyes and a heart that beat fast enough to jump out of her throat. Mikey, who had only ten months younger than her, would wrinkle his face in disgust, making retching sounds every time Laura would see the lacrosse captain and go distant, unfocused, dreamy. 

Instinctively, Laura braces herself for the old hurt to slam back, the memory of her fourteen year old brother- just starting to grow his hair out and learning to smirk the way that Derek would copy only two years later. Out of them all- Michael had always been the one easiest with his sexuality, easy smile, easy walk and so much flirting that he would literally turn straight men gay just for the hell of it. He had bought his first leather jacket at fourteen, adding to the allure of the artistically tousled hair and the strange almond shaped eyes that he had inherited from their mother. 

When it doesn’t come, when she can still breathe and not feel like her chest is going to be ripped open- Laura exhales and focuses back on the rambling monologue of her old high school crush. Bobby Finstock looks like he’s about a second away from starting to wave his arms to emphasize whatever point he’s making. 

“- and _then_ I thought, no- no cupcake, clearly she’s younger than you. She’s lived in New York and has a fancy degree and everything, so why in the name of god would she want to go on a date with a divorced lacrosse coach-?” Bobby stops talking with a complicated kind of choking sound. 

He’d probably never meant to let that much out. Laura’s grown up in a house full of boys, she knows all about how men like to maintain their whole mysterious allure, or whatever the hell it is that keeps them thinking they’re in any way cool and manly. 

“Bobby,” Laura lays a hand on Finstock’s arm, lets herself be selfish and _human_ for a moment longer and revel in touching a man that doesn’t flinch at the gesture. 

He stops speaking immediately, gulps his words down and stares at Laura with hope in his eyes. 

He had such potential, Robert Finstock- back during their school days. There were always rumours about him getting scouted, the boy with the perfect record and an easy, rambling charisma. Loud, funny and popular- he had always seemed like he’d go far. 

Who knew that just like her, he’d end up back here? Back in Beacon Hills? 

“Listen,” Laura interrupts him, “I’m not really in a good place to date right now. But I promise that when I get there,” she smiles gently, “you’ll be the first to know.” 

 

+

Laura runs with Boyd every morning. He meets her outside the house, wearing only a loose pair of basketball shorts and a sleepy eyed grin. They wake up before the rest of the house’s inhabitants do, her and Boyd are the only people in the pack that are best in the mornings, that are good to go as soon as they wake up, that don’t need seventeen cups of coffee like some people she might mention, ahem _Derek_ or Isaac who closely resembles an amoeba before noon and nothing of a wolf. Erica’s the only one that sometimes volunteers to run with them, but if given the preference- she’d still choose to sleep in a little bit extra every day. 

They don’t change when they run. Boyd’s working on becoming better at lacrosse, which Laura’s taken to understanding as better than _Scott McCall_ at lacrosse and a big part of that is stepping up his endurance training while in human form. 

Laura’s always been fast, faster than any of her brothers, quick and agile. Where Derek can teach the puppies about strength and persistence and how to win against an enemy by sheer single-mindedness, Laura teaches them to think on their feet, to use werewolf speed to their advantage, not to trust brute force where a quick jab and a swerve will do the job. 

Derek’s way of thinking is that the quickest way from point A to point B is a good spot of violence and some manly posturing, while Laura’s more of a ‘why not just _drive_ to point B?’ kinda gal. 

“Morning,” Laura offers up to him, quickly working her hair into a French braid. She’s wearing her red sports bra today and a thin pair of running shorts, not for the first time Laura feels infinitely grateful that the woods are so far out of the way that nobody will chance upon a twenty six year old woman wearing next to nothing with a seventeen year old teenager. 

“Hey,” Boyd nods at her. “I was thinking,” he says, “what if we doubled the usual today?” 

“Huh,” Laura finishes the braid and flips it over her shoulder, cracks her shoulders back and bounces on her toes- “I don’t see why not.” 

Boyd flashes her a quick grin, a bright flash of white teeth against his skin and a warm crinkle around his eyes- “loser has to make breakfast?” 

“I want pancakes,” Laura calls out and races into the woods, branches whipping past her as she blurs through the trees. 

Boyd’s laughing somewhere behind her, happy and carefree, shouting- “you’re such a cheater Laura!” Which, she is and Laura’s never been one to try and play it off as anything else so she just cackles in response and picks up speed as Boyd starts gaining on her. 

If she runs fast enough, it feels like it’s Josh running with her. It had always been their thing, their shared athleticism, their love of pure _movement_ even without the werewolf instincts. 

Laura had a friend in high school- Messina who’d described their family perfectly. 

Laura and Josh had been the jocks, the oldest ones, bossiest and loudest of the whole family. Michael, who’d somehow managed to make wearing leather at _fourteen_ seem effortless was the definition of ‘tall, dark and bad to know’. It was a little alarming how well that kid could work what nature and their parents had given him, and Laura, by the time she was in junior year and Mikey had entered their high school soon found herself in the perpetual older sibling role. Derek, who was quiet and read too much, was a sarcastic little shit when you really knew him- he had always been her secret favourite, but now, two of her brothers were in the same school as Laura and it was absolute _hell_. 

Messina had been watching Laura’s brothers play basketball at that point, eyes gone a little dreamy and Laura, who’d suddenly realized that both Mikey and Josh had hit six feet and were now running around with their shirts off, had narrowed her eyes and very pointedly stood in front of Messi, blocking her view of whatever sex signals Mikey might have been setting off. “What? It’s not like I’m going to _do anything_ , he’s a _freshman_ ,” Messi had spluttered and then Laura had caught sight of Mikey very pointedly stretching in their direction in a way that her brother should have had no _idea_ about. 

Laura remembers Josh’s glee as she had finally pinned Mikey down and wrestled a shirt on him. Their mom had come out to the back, alarmed by all of the yelling and Laura remembers the bright, happy smile on their mother’s face as she had held Anise and cheered loudly. That was one of the best memories, one of the _good_ ones. Before Derek’s silences and Josh’s hormones, Mikey’s quiet rage and rebellion and their mother’s constant worry over the four of them. 

Laura takes a breath and keeps running, doesn’t look back and it’s only in the slow exhale of her next step that she allows herself to let the past go. 

If only for a moment. 

 

+

 

Lydia had a book on her knees. A thick tome of lore written in Archaic Latin. The last time Laura had seen somebody actually reading it was ten years ago. There was a notebook to Lydia’s right, filled with her neat script and highlighted bulletpoints. There was a pen tucked behind Lydia’s left ear. 

Laura’s sweats were too long on Lydia, she had rolled them at her ankles, leaving her feet bare, vulnerable. The tank top she was wearing had lace on the bottom. It left her arms bare, showed the bruises on her shoulders and back from last week when Laura had been teaching her how to properly fall. Go with the momentum and use her opponent’s speed and strength against them. 

Lydia, she of the perfect makeup and beautiful dresses that she would wear to each of their meetings. Dresses that she would hang up, meticulously smoothing down imaginary wrinkles in the material before changing. 

She had forgotten her shorts today. She hadn’t forgotten the seven different highlighters that were a part of her complicated colour coding system. 

“I think Jackson’s leaving,” Lydia had said. 

She wasn’t looking up from the text as she spoke. 

Laura stopped her push-ups and froze, body tilted over the grimy floor of the old house. “Why do you think so?” 

“His parents, they know something’s wrong with Beacon Hills,” Lydia frowned at the text. “His dad’s applied for a transfer to Vegas. They always need lawyers there.” 

Laura thought about what she knew on Nevada packs. “He’ll be safe there, it’s a big area and with the tourists- there isn’t one pack’s monopoly over the territory. He just needs to keep his head down.” 

“I _know_ that,” Lydia said coolly. On anybody else, it would have been a yell. “But how long can he stay without an alpha?” 

“Lydia,” Laura flipped to a crouch before her, “you know that just because he won’t be here physically doesn’t mean he’ll be without an alpha. There _are_ ways of making it work.” 

Lydia’s highlighter froze above her notebook. “I talked to him.” She finally said. “About submitting to Derek. He still won’t do it.” 

Laura hissed through her teeth. Thought about her baby brother and how much of an asshole he could be, though he _was_ learning. He was trying. And somehow, despite sometimes disappearing for hours and coming back smelling of teenage boy and no sex, Derek was managing to straighten up. Learn from his mistakes.

She had tried to talk to him about it, but Derek wouldn’t budge and in answer to all of her teasing, the only thing he would say about Stiles was that he knew what was going on. He was also smart, loyal and Laura knew this firsthand, had seen it during the times that Stiles would drop by, glaring at Laura and watching the betas warily before getting involved in one of his long, intense arguments with Derek- Stiles wouldn’t take any of her brother’s bullshit. 

“Alright,” Laura lowered her head, watched the cracks in the smoke-darkened floor of her childhood home and thought, “I’ll figure something out.” 

Lydia, beautiful genius Lydia was probably going to get her heart broken and Laura tensed under the responsibility of yet another person she had somehow started to care for. Sarcastic, blunt and cunning- Lydia had somehow managed to become Laura’s closest friend since she’d come back. Her only confidante. 

She’d need to figure this out. Not only for Derek, but for Lydia who wouldn’t admit that she relied on Laura and for Stiles who orbited them, constant and bright. 

 

+

 

“I’m going to pick up the chicken, why don’t you guys get the pop?” Laura eyes the slowly rotating grill with the practiced eye of one long used to eating mostly meat. 

“Alright, well hurry up-“ Erica sounds a little whiny on the other line, a little concerned and the thump that follows her words is enough to straighten Laura up and get her going. “Isaac and Boyd are getting restless.” 

“Where’s my brother?” Laura smiles at the cashier. 

“Derek disappeared into the woods once they started wrestling,” Erica promptly informs her. 

Goddamn it. 

She’s really going to have to talk to him about his inability to stay with the puppies once they start getting unruly. 

“Alright,” Laura breathes out in irritation at her little brother, “that’s fine. Just, there’re a couple bags of chips in the pantry. They should tide you guys over until I get home. I’m bringing real food with-“ she breaks off. 

There are two very, very familiar voices outside. And both of them are using some very, very familiar words. 

“I’ll call you back,” Laura hangs up on Erica’s spluttering, quietly sets her basket down and signals the clerk for at least five chickens. “I’ll be back,” she smiles sweetly and heads to the back alley, claws unsheathing as she goes. 

Chris Argent has Scott cornered against the wall of the market, a short-bow hanging nonchalantly from his fingers and an ugly smirk on his face. 

“-what did I say the last time you followed my daughter?” Argent’s sneering into Scott’s fanged out face, looming like he’s been taking lessons since the last time Laura’s seen him. He looks plenty occupied with trying to terrify a seventeen year old kid and jumps visibly when Laura taps his back. 

“I see that your family’s still in the business of bullying kids,” Laura inclines her head, glances at Scott, checks to see that he’s not hurt. He’s not. He’s just stubborn. He has his chin tilted up and eyes narrowed at both her and Argent. 

Laura has to fight not to roll her eyes at him. It’s hard. 

“Laura Hale,” Argent pronounces her name like it’s something dirty, putting an unneeded emphasis on _Hale_ , like he’s sentencing her to something terrible. 

“As I live and breathe,” he smirks, shakes his head and blatantly gives her a once-over, “or I guess, as _you_ live and breathe.” 

“That’s right,” Laura bares her teeth at him, “surprised?” 

“No, no-“ Argent shakes his head, “you Hales certainly have the tendency of not staying dead.” 

Something hot and painful unfurls in Laura’s stomach. Stabs at her with sharp, prickly teeth and clenches. She can smell the gun oil on Argent, at least two hidden pieces, a dagger strapped to his thigh and a ceramic knife nestled in the hollow of his back. 

“We have to find a way of balancing out what your family’s done, don’t we Christopher? Tell me,” Laura tips her head, lets the anger bleed topaz into her vision, “how _is_ your dear sibling by the way? I haven’t heard much about the illustrious Kate lately. Tell me Christopher, does she still go around picking teenage werewolves to _tutor_ or has she grown out of that charming habit yet?” 

Argent’s face twists into a moue of rage, his hand with the bow jerks forward, like he’s going to raise and aim it at Laura’s head. 

Good. Laura feels the rage flood her vision. That’s good. It’s been a while since she’s had a go with him, he was always a good fighter. It’ll do her some good to go against someone who isn’t related to her or who isn’t a teenager. 

“She’s _dead_ ,” Argent snarls. His eyes flash with the normal grief, but there’s also something else there. Something hidden. Guilt. 

Kate Argent’s dead… That’s an interesting piece of information that Laura should have learned before this. 

Involuntarily, her gaze lands on Scott and the look of dawning comprehension written on his face. Like the pieces are slowly falling together. 

“I’d say I’m sorry… but we both know that I’d be lying,” Laura shrugs. 

At least, she doesn’t outright laugh in Chris Argent’s face. She owes him that much. 

“Why are you here?” would you look at that, Argent refusing to rise to the bait. The day has come and pigs have learned how to fly. 

“Grocery shopping,” Laura gestures over to the sign hanging above the shop, “it’s pack movie night.” 

“I _meant_ ,” Argent grinds out, frustrated and gestures to the empty alley, “why are you _here_?” 

“Oh,” Laura picks up, smiles genially and nods at Scott. “Well, seeing as how this one’s been trailing me for the last two weeks, I felt it was only fair that I trail him a little bit as well.” She gives Argent a huge, ridiculous wink “make sure Scotty boy here isn’t getting into any trouble. You know how much of an idiot a teenage boy hopped on hormones can be,” Laura says meaningfully. 

“Hey!” Scott says, outraged. 

“Shut up Scott,” Laura grinds out through her teeth, keeps smiling at Argent and takes another step towards the teenager standing in between them. “And now that we’ve established why me and Scott are here, I think it’s time to ask why you’re here. Lurking and looming.”

Argent pauses, looks between Laura and the kid. “I thought Scott wasn’t a part of Derek’s pack,” he says thoughtfully. 

“Oh he’s not,” Laura laughs, “Scott’s definitely not a part of my brother’s pack.” 

Surprisingly enough, Scott looks jolted by those words. Like he wasn’t expecting them. Like they’d hurt. 

“But that doesn’t mean we’ll just leave him on his own. He may not be mine Christopher,” Laura sees Argent’s hands clench, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll leave him for you.” 

Scott watches the both of them warily, stepping back as Argent swings to face him again. “Remember what I told you. Stay away from Allison.” 

He gives a sharp, jerky nod to Laura before turning away from them. His shoulders are just as wide as Laura remembers them and the various weapons stashed on him give Argent a strange, almost rolling gait. 

“You alright?” Laura watches Argent leave. She glances down at her hands, clenched tightly into fists and slowly uncurls them. The marks, from where her claws had dug into the soft skin of her palms disappear almost instantly. 

“What the _hell_ was that about?” Scott demands, bristling. 

“That’s really none of your business,” Laura says before eyeing him, “but you’re not hurt, are you?” 

Scott pauses, “no.” 

“That’s good,” Laura nods, “now you better get home.” She gives the kid a gentle smile, “don’t you know that Beacon Hills is full of monsters after dark?” She turns to leave. 

“You’re not going to tell me?” Scott calls out after her. 

Laura quirks an eyebrow at him, “kid. If you’ve decided to stay out, you can’t pick and choose the things that you deal with. Either you’re all out or you’re all in.” 

Scott shuts up immediately. She can see that he’s still full of questions. Still bristling with quiet indignation and the same goddamn heroism that’s always annoyed Laura about Hollywood movies. She’s never been the heroic type, Laura Hale. She’s more about doing what needs to be done and dealing with the consequences as they come. 

“Stay safe Scott,” Laura winks at him before heading back into the market. He may not be one of hers, but she has four other family members to worry about and right now they’re hungry and waiting for her. 

Laura sees Scott’s pale, wavering face, still standing in the same position that she’d left him, watching her before the door closes behind her back. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr- shulik1. 
> 
> I post fandom-related things, personal, hip-hop related items, makeup and fashion. I also post snippets of upcoming stories, glimpses of the universe I've created. Things I'm working on.


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